Riding with Dirty Girls

This story is a work of fiction. A figment of the author's imagination. It is not meant to be big on realism. It's a fantasy. The culture around world-class women's cycling probably isn't a hotbed of lesbian lust, but wouldn't it be fun if it were?

All characters are fictitious. At the same time, they are all over 18...

Unlike previous series' of mine, each part of this one can probably be read as a stand-alone story, once you have read the Prologue (Part 1).

***

Riding With Dirty Girls.

3. Antwerp

I'm quite lucky... OK, I'm lucky in many ways, but one of the ways is the fact that virtually everyone on the tour speaks English, which is handy because I don't speak languages. I have never had a facility with languages, and have always struggled with any language I've tried to learn, so I'm fortunate that English is the de facto lingua franca of the cyclocross World Cup (see, I do speak SOME bits of foreign languages). I guess I'm a typical Brit in that respect.

I'm always amazed and humbled by the command of languages some of the girls have, especially those who speak multiple languages, like Carmen, who speaks at least three. The Dutch and Belgian girls have amazing command of English, but everyone speaks it reasonably well - even the French girls.

So, there I was on the phone with my team manager, Sharon, who is Dutch but who's English rivals mine. In fact, I have to make an effort to speak correctly when I talk to Dutch people, because I have a tendency to slip into English colloquialisms and slang.

We were discussing hotel arrangements for the upcoming race in Antwerp. The hotel was the same as last time we were there -- all the team hotels were close together, just across the river from the race venue -- but Sharon wanted to talk about the organisation of room-sharing. She's far from stupid, and she was aware of certain chicaneries going on between Helen, Mari, Annike, and me.

'So, going by what happened in Brussels, Chloe, I'm guessing you might always want to be paired with Helen. Am I right?'

'Well, that would be OK, but it could be Mari or Annike. Either of them would also be fine. There might still be a bit of room juggling though.'

'Hmm, seems like a nice little fluid arrangement you four have.' I could almost see her wry smile.

'Well...'

'It's OK, Chloe, you don't need to explain. As long as it doesn't affect your performance on the bike, I don't mind what you get up to... Does it?

'What?'

'Does it affect your performance?'

'No, I don't think so. If I thought it did, I would stop. You know how much I want that first win, Sharon.

Yes. We all want it... There was a pause. 'OK, I will do it like that then. Take care, Chloe, and don't over-train. I know you want the win, but you mustn't burn yourself out.'

'I know. Molly is taking good care of me.'

'Of course... See you next weekend.

'Bye Sharon.'

In the week since I came beck from Brussels, I had stuck broadly to Molly's training plan, but I definitely stretched the limits of it, taking myself to the ragged edge a few times, to try to improve my anaerobic tolerance. I also went a little further on one or two rides. It was a bit naughty, but I didn't think I'd overdone it, because I was still as horny as ever and that wouldn't be the case if I were over-training. It was Saturday night. I thought I deserved one of my special wanks.

I did think of phoning Maisie, but I decided against it because I didn't want to become too dependent on her for my sexual gratification. It would be early afternoon in Atlantic City anyway, and she'd probably be out riding somewhere.

So, I went to bed with a towel, and got some lesbian porn up on my big screen TV. I lay surfing on my Chromebook, and the big TV mirrored what was on the Chromebook's tiny 14-inch screen. I always think porn is way more exciting on a really big screen, especially when there are lots of HD close-ups. I love it.

I stumbled on a film with two very busty girls, and I settled back to watch it with fascination, imagining what it would be like to have sex with a really busty woman, or to have tits like that myself. None of the girls on tour fall into that category, obviously. We are all athletic types. Carmen is closest, and she does have a very nice pair of boobs, but they are nowhere near these two (or four, rather!) on the screen.

I fingered myself to two orgasms as I watched huge tits being sucked and played with. One of the women had amazing long nipples and she used them to tease the other girl's clit, and even inserted then into her wet entrance. The close-ups were astonishing.

I don't really think a nipple can do much in the way of physical stimulation, but it must be nice to feel one against your clit, and it's the naughtiness of bringing tit and pussy together that's so exciting, especially with big bulging boobs like these girls had. I made a mental note to try it as soon as I could.

My second orgasm was intense, with the triple stimulation of watching the close-up nipple fucking on the screen, tweaking one of my own rubber-like nipples with one hand, while fingering my dribbling, squelching hole with the other. I think I howled the longest 'fuuuuuuuck' ever.

I slept my usual dreamy post-orgasm sleep, and ravenously ate my usual delicious post-orgasm breakfast, then I thought about the day's ride.

Molly's training plan called for a long ride of 3 to 4 hours, with 'a few short, anaerobic efforts,' and I decided to get the mountain bike out. I planned a lollipop shaped route starting from Hawick (pronounced "hoik^) with lunch at the wonderfully-named Tushielaw Inn. It was about 70km (40-ish miles) with a number of off-road sections and some sharp climbs, and I planned to use the climbs as anaerobic training, and the descents as recovery.

I put the bike on the back of the car and drove to the starting point, then set off on what was a cold wintry day with some sleet showers. I was certainly glad of the fire and the hot food at Tushielaw.

It was a great ride though. I felt on top form, and my recoveries after charging flat-out up hard climbs were so rapid, even I was startled. It was excellent training, and I would only do one more quality session, on Tuesday, before tapering down to the following weekend's race.

I felt I was moving onto a new level. Bring it on, Antwerpen

***

Round 2: Antrwerp.

Getting to Antwerp was a bit of a pain. There were no direct flights from Edinburgh, so I had to fly to Brussels, then take a train to Antwerp Centraal, then a taxi to the hotel, arriving there when it was just getting dark. I was glad that Molly was giving me a lift back to Brussels airport on the Sunday morning.

I was just in time to have dinner with the team, and catch-up on all the latest news and gossip, and the biggest news was that Carmen was going to miss this round due to "extreme fatigue." This didn't surprise me all that much, because I think she over-races.

The Word Cup is the number one series each winter, but there are others -- the "Superprestige" and the "Exact Cross" series, as well as some other individual races. Carmen's problem is that she tries to do everything -- racing every single weekend from October to March. It's too much.

Of course you need to race regularly to reach your sharpest form, but what Carmen does just keeps you tired, and hardly allows any meaningful training between races. If I were cynical, I'd say she was just trying to make as much prize money as possible.

I had prioritised the World Cup, and I didn't have any Superprestige or Exact Cross races planned at all, which enabled me to achieve a pattern of train -- race -- recover -- train -- race -- recover. It seemed to be working.

Anyway, Carmen's absence would mean one rival less to worry about, but I'd still have to get the better of Lucy and Femke -- not to mention Maisie, Leona and -- Pekka -- if I were to get that elusive first win.

In other news, I learned that my designated roommate for that night was to be Annike, and I was happy with that. It would allow Helen and Mari to renew their liaison from the previous season, and I would get my chance to make the aquiaintance of Annike. Well, I'd already made her aquiaintance, but not yet in a sexual sense. It was quite an appetising prospect.

When dinner was over and people started leaving the table, I went and sat next to her. 'So, I believe were are roomies tonight,' I said.

She laughed and blushed a little. 'Roomies... Yes. If you don't mind, that is.' She looked at me, a bit uncertainly.

'Mind? Why should I mind, Annike? I'm looking forward to it.' I smiled fruitily, and she blushed bright pink. Quite adorable really.

The age difference between us was only just over two years, but it seemed like an age. She was so wet behind the ears compared to me. This was her first World Cup, and her first taste of the lesbian free love club, whereas it was my third season, of both. The gulf was enormous.

I looked at her cute dimples, her twinkly blue eyes, her shock of red hair, tied back into a bunch that was just an explosion of curls, and her radiant smile. Add that dash of coy embarrassment, and she was captivating, really.

When she got up to leave the table, I took in her slender upper body, and pert little breasts, and I noted that, like a lot of cyclists, her bum and thighs are almost out of proportion with her petite waist and chest. Her thighs are not as thunderous as Helen's (few are), but there was an unmistakeable latent strength in them. A hint of hidden, lithe muscle.

'Hey, do you wanna get a drink in the Oostbar?'

'Yeh, great. Now?

'Yes, now.'

'OK'

The Oostbar (east bar) was a hip little place on the riverbank and being close to all the team hotels it was always full of cyclists on race weekends. We weren't the only ones heading there; we were joined by Helen, Mari, and Ingrid.

As usual, we encountered lots of other cyclists, male and female, including Lucy, Leona, Maisie, and my compatriot Licia Francis. We had a very nice social catch up and drinking session -- albeit on soft drinks only.

We didn't see Femke. She's never at this kind of social gathering. She was probably back at her team hotel, tucked up in bed, dreaming of victory.

Annike and I walked back to the hotel at about 10pm and went up to the room. I didn't make any moves on her. I know Mari had said she was eager and horny, but she just seemed so vulnerable, I didn't want to push her into anything.

Instead, we lay on the two beds drinking Coke, and talked about racing...

'I think you had a similar experience to me in Brussels,' I said.

'How do you mean?'

'Well you were going well, keeping up with Helen and Sandi, but then went a bit too deep and suffered for it.'

She seemed to ponder on that for a minute... 'Yes, but you were in the lead, Chloe.'

'I know, but the experience is the same. You have to learn the same lesson, and do better next time. Top 20 -- at least - for you tomorrow.'

She lay thinking for a while with a smile on her face. Then she turned on her side and looked at me. 'Thanks, Chloe. It's great to have you as a team mate... and a room mate.'

I smiled. 'And it's great to have you in the team. I think you've got great things ahead.'

She fixed me with those twinkly blue eyes, and a coquettish little smile. 'Do you like me, Chloe?

'I do, I think you're lovely.

'But really like me, I mean. Am I sexy?'

'Of course you are,' I said, pulling a face that said 'what a silly question.'

'I've only been with two girls. My friend from school, Cathrijn, and Mari. Both are wonderful, but I want to experience more... Do you want me, Chloe? Do you want to fuck me?'

'Bloody hell, direct, or what? Mari wasn't kidding when she said she was eager and horny. Before I could answer, she rolled off her bed and dropped to her knees next to mine. She took my face in her hands and kissed me. It was a rather clumsy, awkward kiss, but her enthusiasm was enormous and irresistible.

I kissed her back, of course, and I swivelled round and swung my legs off the bed so I could put my arm around her neck and pull her to me. The kiss became feverish and impassioned. There was a fervid urgency -- almost desperation -- about it, and she whimpered like a puppy in her desire.

She manoeuvred herself between my legs and started tugging at my track bottoms, but I stopped her. 'Take it easy, Annike. Yes, you can fuck me, but there's no rush. Stay there.'

I stood up, stripped off my tops and bra, then hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my knickers and bottoms, and eased them down, lifting one leg to pull them off my foot, and she sat on the floor and gazed at me.

She ran the palms of her hands up and down the outsides of my legs, like she simply HAD to touch me, and she just breathed 'Oh, Chloe.' She seemed to be completely awed by me.

My nipples were startling in their rudeness, and my juice glands were already producing oodles of hot, creamy sauce. She had me SO turned on. Standing there, looking down at her sweet face and her unconcealed ardour was just so hot!

Placed a finger on the soft hairy flesh covering my mons, and pulled up, making my inner lips pout a little, and she looked up at me with a question in her eyes. I nodded slowly, 'Yes.'

She gently parted my outer lips with her thumbs and kissed my pussy, then lapped at my lips with her tongue. 'Oo, wet...like Mari,' she said, looking up at me with a delighted little smile. Oh, fuck, my legs were going...

'Oh God, Annike, that's so hot, I groaned. Don't stop.' I put my hands on her head, just gently holding her in place, and abandoned myself to the electricity that was coursing through my loins. I closed my eyes and saw colours.

What she lacked in experience and technique, she more than made up for in sheer passion. It was like my pussy was the Holy Grail to her, and my sexual secretions the food of the Gods. Her hunger was palpable.

My legs gave up their struggle to support me, and I fell back onto the bed, but her lips hardly left me for a moment. I was being ravenously devoured and I was transported.

'Oh -- fuck -- Annike -- that's -- sheer -- heaven. Oh -- God -- yes -- yes -- YES.'

I threw my head back onto the bed and just abandoned myself to her adoration. Abandoned myself to pleasure, as her oral caresses raised me, step by step, inexorably towards the peak. She was tireless, and her intensity never waned, all the way to the vertex of the pinnacle. In fact, as my climax approached and my tell-tale twitches and moans became more and more frequent, she stepped up her efforts, and I jolted as her fingers joined her tongue. She slipped them into me and pumped them in and out, driving me on, zealously, to a pelvis-melting orgasm.

As I howled out my pleasure, her fingers went faster and she lifted her head to look at me, saying 'Yes, Chloe, YES.' Her sheer delight in my pleasure was just adorable.

Make no mistake, this was right up there with some of the best orgasms I've ever had, and she finished it off by just lying between my legs, softly kissing me all over my pussy and thighs. She made me feel so very desirable.

When I'd recovered a little, I finally spoke; 'Oh my God, Annike. What a demon you are...'

'She chuckled, then moved up to kiss me. A softer, more tender kiss, and a tasty one. Then she stood up and started taking her clothes off while I lay and watched her. It wasn't a striptease - I mean, she didn't do it provocatively -- but it was still horny to watch, as her lean, lithe body was revealed.

She's a little shorter than me, but otherwise, our figures are very similar. We both have the same small pert boobs and prominent nipples, both have slender waists, and both have strong cyclists legs and bums. If I said she was gorgeous, that would seem conceited, since I've just said we are similar, but she is... so I suppose I must be too.

'Come here and sit on me, Annike. I want you to queen me,' I said.

'Really? Can I?' she said, with child-like wonder.

'Yes, come on, I want your pussy.' I said, grabbing a pillow for my head.

She gleefully got on the bed and straddled me, sitting back on my chest so that I was face to fanny with her. Even our pussies are similar, with fubsy outer lips, and inner ones that just peep... we both have pubes trimmed to a neat patch, though hers are a rich red, whereas mine are boring brown.

'Open,' I said, and she spread her lips with her hands, showing her perfect petals and a little pink pearl of a clit. Her face was a picture of joyful elation as she looked down at me, and her tongue came out as if she were imagining me licking her even before I had.

I looked at her, inhaled her musk, felt her heat, and my body thrummed with arousal and anticipation. There was a little drop of girl cream at the bottom of her opening, about to drip, and I watched it grow and overflow, then caught it on my tongue and savoured it.

She gave a pleading little 'oh,' and a sharp intake of breath, but she didn't move forward, even though I could tell she was absolutely dying to. I prolonged her suspense just a little longer, and licked up more drops of her smooth oily cunt cream -- she was dribbling beautifully -- then I stuck my tongue out and raised my head to sink it slowly and deeply into her hot sapid honeypot until my nose was buried in those curly red pubes. God, what a gorgeous feeling.

At the same time, I brought my hands up to her bum and pulled her forward until her weight squashed my head into the pillow, then I just let her use my face as a fuck toy. She didn't need any further encouragement. She just abandoned herself to her lust, and fucked my face, firmly and lustfully.

Occasionally, she pulled back and looked down into my eyes while rubbing her clit with a finger, then she sank back down on me, enveloping my face in her slick wet flesh.

I used my tongue to slurp her clit each time it slid smoothly over my mouth, but I think the friction of her thrusting back and forth on my face would have been enough on its own for her to get off, she was so ablaze. She went faster and faster, and she got wetter and wetter. I was swallowing regularly, but I could feel her cream trickling down my cheeks and neck. She was almost as wet as Mari!

The sounds she was making were primitive. Animalistic. Fevered. And so elemental. I felt thrilled to be the object of such a pétillant passion, and I just revelled in the feeling of being gradually fucked into a creamy mess.

She came twice. Her first release was an outpouring of succour. There was a sense of relief about it, but that was only the appetiser. She immediately started another build-up, grabbing a handful of my hair, and rising to an even more intense jerking, jolting climax. I could see and feel the tension in her muscles; in her legs, in her stomach, and in her pussy. It was deliciously visceral.

If there's one thing I've learned about Annike, it's that she really knows how to abandon herself to the pleasures of the flesh. All her fears, shyness and uncertainty are swept away in a flood of primal rapture.

The aftermath was curious but adorable. She rolled off me, leaving me slightly dazed and swimmy, and lay down beside me, chest still heaving slightly, and her arm draped across her eyes, as if trying to avoid re-engaging with the real world. She lay like that for a long time, just occasionally giving a cute little 'Oh,' and I just lay and watched her as my own equilibrium returned.

Eventually, she formed sentences. "Oh, Chloe, that was wonderful. You are the best lover EVER.'

I chuckled inwardly. Her youthful wonderment and innocence were so very endearing. Innocence might seem an odd word to use, after the raw, raunchy fucking she'd just given me, but there was an unmistakeable innocence about her. A sense of guilessness and naivety. I leaned over and moved her arm away so I could kiss her, and I whispered in her ear, 'I think you're about to take my title...'